


Habit

by starvinbohemian



Series: What's Yours Is Mine [2]
Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: Brian pov, M/M, Romantic Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6308782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starvinbohemian/pseuds/starvinbohemian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian thinks this might be his time. (Paul would probably disagree.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Habit

**Author's Note:**

> habit: a settled or regular tendency or practice, especially one that is hard to give up.

        Brian might have forgotten while he was away.

        After four years, it’s possible. Four years is long enough to have moved on, especially when Brian put Salem in his rear-view a long time ago. After so much time away, he could have forgotten the details, as in how Sonny’s smile is bright enough to light up an entire room and how he can make Brian’s world blur around the edges with just a look.

        Even if he could forget all those things— four years is too long to still be so hung up— it would still take all of a second to bring it all crashing back.

        And it does. Walking into Sonny’s coffee shop— now a club apparently, a club with genuinely _questionable_ decor— and being met with that beloved face is a shock of déjà vu to the system.

        As is hearing Sonny’s amused tone as he says, “Hey, Brian,” as if it were four years ago and Brian was still stopping by this place hoping for… all manner of things he never ended up getting.

        (Not that he’s bitter or anything.)

        Time and space could have at least lessened the impact.

        They haven’t though. When Sonny smiles at him, Brian is suddenly twenty-two again and as desperate as he’s ever been.

        Everyone has a weak spot. Brian knows this, having forsaken his pride once, twice, even thrice over for his.

        Four years. Nothing has changed.

        Still, the passage of time is marked in the changes to Sonny’s physique. The softness around his face has sharpened into distinct lines, defined cheekbones, and a strong jaw. Looking at him now, Brian has to readjust and reconcile his memories, because the Sonny in his mind now looks like a sweet-faced boy in comparison to this more mature man, which means that Brian must have been young, too, if never exactly sweet.

        They’re a few years older and hopefully a few years wiser, but Sonny is still Sonny. And Brian is still Brian, which is precisely why he’s here, drawn back in like a moth to a flame by the suggestion from the rumor mill that Sonny’s marriage might finally be over.

        He didn’t know. Not for sure, not until he heard the words straight from Sonny’s mouth.

        Brian didn’t come back to Salem for Sonny. That would be insane, to be so desperate over a man that had soundly rejected him four years prior. No, Brian was already in town, taking some much needed vacation time and visiting family and old friends, as he’d done many times over the years since moving away. It just so happens that, this time, Sonny’s name came up in casual conversation and resurrected some not-so-buried ghosts.

        And when Sonny seems genuinely pleased to see him— those warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles— Brian resigns himself to the fact that there are just some things that you never truly get over.

        (Sonny Kiriakis is one of those things.)

        It’s surprisingly easy to slip into old patterns. To just show up at Club TBD for various meals or coffee breaks while Sonny is working, or trying to while Brian persists at distracting him.

        He lets Sonny think that Brian just wants to reconnect with an old friend. Sonny can think whatever he wants so long as he lets Brian come around.

        It’s not technically a lie. He and Sonny were friends, even after Brian was inexplicably rejected in favor of Will Horton. It was a strange friendship, ultimately amounting to a handful of forced, tense outings with Sonny-and-Will, already an old married couple long before they actually tied the knot, until they officially disappeared into matrimony, suddenly unavailable for casual hang-outs, and Brian eventually moved away.

        Part of Brian expected to find Sonny a mess in the aftermath of his divorce from the supposed love of his life.

        The last thing he expected was to find him not just all right, but already enmeshed in a new relationship. With a famous athlete no less. With _Paul Narita_ no less.

        Sonny is just full of goddamn surprises.

        So, then there’s Paul.

        Paul, who acts polite but clearly hates Brian on sight, no doubt sensing Brian’s agenda straight from _hello_. (He’s never claimed to be subtle.) Paul, who looks as if he walked right out of the collective gay wet dream, with his perfect body, his celebrity, and even goddamn charity work _with orphans_ for fuck’s sake.

        They’re already living together. Even Brian has to appreciate how fast Paul moved to lock it down. Maybe he isn't as dumb as he appears in interviews? And, yeah, maybe it stings a little bit to know that Paul somehow managed to do what Brian couldn’t. From what Brian has gathered, Paul somehow ran Will off, all the way to California, and took Sonny for himself. There’s more to it than that, he knows, but Brian doesn’t care about the details.

        He did read Will’s article, and he assumes (as everyone else has) that the so-called love of Paul’s life— the one that got away once upon a gay time— was Sonny.

        (Join the club, Paul.)

        So, the story goes: after sacrificing the love of his life for the love of career and fame— _jesus_ , Paul— a still-besotted, determined Paul eventually returns to reassert his own epic, blockbuster love story—literally, since Brian’s heard they’re actually making a movie about it— onto the narrative of Will and Sonny’s more mundane, straight-to-television adaptation. The call of old love is just too strong to resist, and Paul wrecks shop on Sonny’s marriage. Will leaves in defeat, and the lovers are free to be together forever and ever, amen.

        It’s adorable. Really. _They’re_ adorable. Brian can’t wait to see the movie. Sonny and Paul: a romance for the ages, by all accounts.

        (Sonny and Will were adorable, too. Once.)

        Brian might have given up the game right there—somewhere between the movie and the _orphans_ — because who can compete with that ridiculous shit? He might have just accepted the inevitable, that he will never have Sonny in the way he wants— if it weren’t for Sonny himself.

        If it weren’t for Sonny, while more than a little drunk over shared drinks one night, telling him that he and Paul aren’t technically living together, that Paul is just staying with him while in the process of getting his stuff moved into his own apartment, that he and Paul aren’t technically _together together_ , because it’s still new and Sonny doesn’t want to push Paul too fast, too hard, the way he did with Will. After all, Paul is only recently out of the closet and still _finding himself_.

        Oh, and most importantly? Sonny, freshly divorced, doesn’t want to rush _himself_. If they aren't careful, someone might get _hurt_.

        Four cocktails to the wind, Sonny thinks nothing of bearing all to Brian. Brian thinks a great deal.

        It’s like popping a cork and seeing all the bubbles rush straight to the surface. Brian has to wonder if Sonny has spoken about any of this with anyone else or if his concerns have just been building and building without an outlet. Sonny would do that, would carry all the responsibility for everyone else and their feelings on his shoulders— something Brian will never understand. Sonny must be emotionally taxed if he’s drunkenly divulging all to, well, _Brian_.

        He doesn’t care about Paul or his struggles to “find” himself. Paul doesn’t matter.

        Nonetheless, Brian has learned from his mistakes with Will, and he knows better than to underestimate his rival. He doesn’t think Paul is anywhere near as uncertain as Sonny seems to think he is. That's just Sonny's own insecurities talking. Paul certainly _acts_ as if they’re together. Even if he hadn’t read Will’s article and seen Paul virtually spill his guts, Brian can easily see Paul’s possessive instincts snap into focus the second Brian walks into a room Sonny is already in.

        But Sonny would know better than Brian, wouldn’t he? Really, it’s what Sonny thinks that matters. If Sonny doubts Paul’s commitment, then that’s something Brian can work with.

        Brian isn’t blind. Sonny is clearly besotted with Paul. He’s only a short push from _not_ to _very technically_ together. Still, it seems as if Sonny has learned from his mistakes with Will, too. He’s more cautious with his heart than Brian remembers. He isn’t throwing himself full-throttle into this thing with Paul. 

        Which means that there’s still time.

        Paul doesn’t like him. That’s fine, probably better even than the alternative, because Brian doesn’t like Paul either. He’s arrogant and condescending and Brian’s never given a shit about baseball. Brian also finds it mighty convenient that Paul’s pitching arm gave out, effectively ending his career, around the same time as his big epiphany about being true to himself.

        (Nothing left to lose but something very substantial to gain.)

        Brian understands, and Paul is right to be worried.

        Because Brian never forgot a single thing about Sonny.

        Never forgot Sonny’s smile or the way he makes Brian feel or the bitter sting of having the only thing he ever really wanted taken from him.

        Whatever Paul thinks or feels, Brian knows who he is and what he wants. He always has. And now that what he wants is finally in sight…

        He’s not going anywhere.


End file.
